


Record Breaker #1

by Plaffington_ghast



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 22:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plaffington_ghast/pseuds/Plaffington_ghast
Summary: After shifting his focus from the villainous act of laziness, Robbie Rotten decides to attempt the polar opposite of his previous quota: Breaking world records. Things don't often work out in his favor though, and now more than ever do his antics result in him needing to be rescued by none other than the town hero.





	Record Breaker #1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Lazytown extras, because Robbie needed to be saved from those (sometimes ridiculous) situations...and he deserves a happy ending.
> 
> Check out my tumblr!  
> Plaffington-ghast.tumblr.com

Sportacus's crystal blinked rapidly, alerting him of someone in need of his assistance.   
He sighed, knowing without a fraction of a doubt who it was. With a quick dab and a front flip, he headed out of his airship and toward Lazytown.   


As he hopped into the large pipe that led to the underground lair, he mentally prepared himself for whatever sight would greet him. One thing about his line of work that he knew for certain? People in danger are also usually in the strangest predicaments.    
This particular one was no exception, because there was Robbie Rotten, tangled in what appeared to be Manila rope, and hanging from the ceiling. His body, which moments ago appeared to be completely limp, jerked as he tried to see who had entered his lair.   
  
"Sportacus?" he said, somewhat desperately. "Did you come to save me?"   
  
Sportacus took that moment to survey the scene. This was the third time that week he had helped Robbie out of some awkward mess he managed to get himself into, but those moments were much different from this.    
  
He just had to ask: "How did this happen?"   
  
"Will you just help me already?" Robbie demanded.   
  
Right, he isn't a fan of heights. Sportacus kicked the fluffy orange lounge chair, causing it to slide exactly underneath where Robbie hovered. He then pulled out his trusty boomerang, threw it, and watched as it severed the rope from the ceiling.   
Robbie screamed as he fell, but it was immediately muffled once he landed face-first into his favorite seat. Sportacus walked over and undid the rest of the knots binding him.   
  
"Now will you tell me how you managed that?" Sportacus asked; There hadn't been much for him to do inside or out of his airship lately, so his curiosity was easily piqued.    
  
Robbie twitched, unsure whether or not to reveal his secret, but his desire to impress overcame him, as it often did.    
  
"If you really must know, I was beating a world record!"    
  
"For what? The most tangled person?"   
  
"What? No!" Robbie snapped, his eyes narrowing. "For—For the highest rope swing–swinging–swingy...thing."   
  
"Rope swing drops?" Sportacus asked, to which Robbie nodded. "I love doing those! I can help you, if you want. They're really fun and actually very—"   
  
"No! I don't even want to do the ropey–things anymore!" Robbie stood up from his chair, pulled the undone ropes off of him, and tossed them to the side. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to go away. Forever."   
  
"Or until you need help again," Sportacus murmured. He clicked his tongue, and shook his head in resignation as he headed toward the ladder.    
  
"Er—Maybe not forever," Robbie corrected, not even after a moment of silence. Sportacus turned back to look at him, causing him to sputter, "but definitely for a very, very, very long time!"   
  
Sportacus stifled a chuckle. "Whatever you say, Robbie," he told him, and began to climb.   
  
As he left, he wondered what sort of shenanigan Robbie would engage in next that he would ultimately need to be rescued from, and laughed at his initial thoughts. He knew, however, that even his most creative ones would probably be pale in comparison to reality.    
  
Once out of the pipe, he held open the cover and called down, "see you soon, Robbie!" which earned him some incoherent shouts; He ignored all of them as he let the lid fall shut.  
  


~~

 

"—And that's how you do a two step wall flip," Sportacus told them after he performed the move effortlessly, as always.   
  
The children looked at him as if he were a shiny gold coin amongst a pile of rusted pennies. They pelted him with the usual compliments — "That was amazing!" "You're so fast!" "I knew you could do it!" and the like.   
  
Ziggy's voice rang the loudest within the group. "When can I learn to do that?" he asked, thoroughly enthused.    
  
Sportacus smiled; He knelt down in front of him, fully set on offering him some words of athletic wisdom, but the blinking of his crystal interrupted his becoming words.    
  
He quickly ruffled the boy's hair and settled for, "Soon enough, Ziggy. Remember, practice makes perfect!" before jogging off to the source of trouble.   
  
His cheerful face fell once he realized who he'd have to help. As he lifted the lid to the pipe leading underground, he wondered what could've possibly happened to Robbie this time.   
  
"I need help! Sportacus!"   
  
The shouting grew louder as Sportacus descended.    
  
"I'm stuck in a hole!"   
  
Once he was inside the now too-familiar lair, he saw the gaping hole in the middle of the floor. He looked into it, his hands on his hips as he feigned an annoyed look.   
  
"Sportacus!" Robbie gasped once he appeared. "You've got to help me! I'm—"   
  
"—In a hole, I know," Sportacus said, chuckling.    
  
As much as he enjoyed finding a creative way to help people out of difficult situations, this time he decided to just bend down and offer Robbie his hand.    
  
Robbie grabbed it eagerly and allowed himself to be pulled up. "I'm never reading again," he said with a sigh.   
  
"Trying to set another world record?" Sportacus asked; It was met with a half-hearted shrug. "I could always help you, you know."   
  
At this, Robbie scoffed — but it seemed forced. "I don't need your help."   
  
"That's not what you said when you were stuck in the hole."   
  
"Whatever, I don't even need to set any world records," Robbie snapped; he straightened his vest and put on a smug face. "I am already pretty much perfect, after all."   
  
Sportacus laughed abruptly and loudly. "Okay, Robbie," he said as he headed toward the ladder. "Let me know if you change your mind."   
  
Robbie rolled his eyes, crossed his arms in defense, and watched Sportacus leave. He opened his mouth, then shook his head. The sound of the pipe lid closing echoed through the lair, making him flinch.   
  
"I don't need his help," he murmured to himself, and wished — not for the first time — that he could believe it.   


 

~~

 

With Robbie stuck in the mindset of setting a world record, Sportacus had definitely been expecting to help him out of an odd situation when his crystal blinked, but none such as the one before him now.   
  
Robbie was somehow stuck straddling a pommel horse — and yes, he had to do a double take to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.    
  
"I need... ugh," Robbie groaned, his arms hanging limply at the sides of the horse.   
  
After another moment of surprised staring, Sportacus shook himself out of it and pulled Robbie off. He held him in his arms and Robbie, looking as tired as ever, rested his head against Sportacus's shoulder.    
  
He knew this meant he only had a few seconds before Robbie conked out, so he asked where he got the pommel horse.   
  
"The gym," Robbie answered faintly.   
  
Suddenly, things fell into place — and it was more of a shocker than Sportacus anticipated.   
  
"Robbie, were you trying to set a world record in gymnastics?"   
  
The accusation seemed to jar him from his drowsiness pretty quickly.    
"No!" he snapped, breaking himself out of Sportacus's arms. "—Er, well, yes! But just to prove how easy it is. If someone like you can do it then anyone can."   
  
"That's exactly right! Anyone can do it. I'm proud of you for trying, Robbie."   
  
Robbie scrunched up his face in disgust and tensed up when Sportacus put a supportive hand on his shoulder.    
  
"If you need any help—"   
  
"I won't need any help because I'm never going to do it again!" Robbie told him. "It's...beneath me."   
  
"Well, it was until I pulled you off of it."    
  
Sportacus laughed before taking a running leap at the pommel horse; He flipped over it with ease, did a somersault in the air, and stuck a perfect landing. Robbie glared.   
  
"Make sure to stretch before trying anything like that," he called behind him as he headed back toward his airship.   
  
Robbie clicked his tongue. “Make sure to stretch, blah blah blah," he mocked. "Stupid jumping bean..."    
  
He gave the pommel horse a swift kick, and his leg cracked — loudly and painfully.  
  


~~  
  


Sportacus would be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat or two when he saw Robbie lying face-down on the floor, completely unconscious.

He always worried for whoever he was to save, but with Robbie in such a state, he managed to exceed his usual level of concern. Quickly he knelt down, rolled Robbie over, and put an ear to his chest. Relief filled him when he heard slow, steady breaths and felt the rise and fall of his chest.

“Robbie?” He patted Robbie’s cheeks lightly, but he didn't stir.

The idea struck him then, that maybe Robbie was having his own sort of meltdown. Not sugar induced, of course — he'd find out the cause after he brought him back to consciousness.

Sportscandy always helped break him out of it, but he thought that if he offered Robbie an apple, it would force him into a deeper comatose state. Maybe even kill him, because he was just that over-dramatic.

So he grabbed a slice of cake from Robbie's side table and hovered it inches from his face. Unsurprisingly, Robbie's nose twitched, and slowly, his eyes opened.

“Am… Am I the strongest and fastest yet…?” he murmured.

“You look more like the sickest and sleepiest,” Sportacus said, to which Robbie sighed. “What happened?”

“I made an energy drink so I could win a world record, except it only seemed to take away all my energy.”

“Did you put sugar in it?”

“Of course I put sugar in it. Do you know who you're talking to?”

Sportacus laughed. “That's your first problem,” he told him. “Sugar won't give you energy, just a short rush. If you really want energy, you need—”

“Sportscandy. I know.”

Robbie tried to sit up, but fell backward onto the floor, his mind feeling fuzzy.

“Just relax,” Sportacus instructed.

“That's funny, coming from you.”

Ignoring the comment, Sportacus slipped his hands underneath Robbie and scooped him up into his arms. Robbie was either too tired to protest or he actually  _ wanted  _ to be held; Either way, Sportacus was glad he didn't cause a fuss.

He gently set Robbie down on his chair, stroked back his gelled hair, and threw his little cow blanket over him.

Robbie had already begun to doze off again, whether it was due to the energy drink or him just being comfortable, Sportacus wasn't certain, but he hoped it was the latter.

With such grace that even Robbie would be envious, Sportacus snuck out of the lair, reaching the outside before he could overhear Robbie lovingly mumble his name in his sleep.

~~

 

“Stop?” Sportacus asked, “you painted a stop sign?”

Looking like an intrigued patron in a museum, Sportacus eyed the bright painting — or, rather, what he could see if it, as Robbie's arm had gone right through the middle of the canvas.

“So people would stop and look at it! It was supposed to win me a world record for the greatest painting!” Robbie told him; Sportacus smirked.

“It certainly did stop something,” he said, gesturing toward Robbie's arm.

“Aren't you just a real Funnyman?”

“Are you going to paint a go sign next?”

“Just help me out of this!”

Sportacus shrugged, grabbed the back of the painting, and pulled until Robbie's arm was free.

He turned it toward himself so he could see the entire thing before remarking, “you know, I think people  _ will _  stop and look at this, especially to wonder why there's a hole.”

Robbie huffed as he bitterly packed his paints away.

“It really isn't that bad… Maybe we can fix it?”

Still, Robbie stayed silent. He broke down his easel and carried it under his arm to stow away into his closet, most likely never to be seen again.

“Or—Well, art doesn't always make sense… Maybe the hole can be a part of it?”

“Stop trying, I already gave up on it,” Robbie told him, slamming the closet door shut. “I'll find a new world record to beat.”

“You really want to beat one, don't you?”

“Don't you have a–a sport to play or something?”

Sportacus got the hint and made his way toward the ladder with the painting in tow.

“Wait, why are you taking that?”

“Because I like it,” Sportacus told him. “It may not be a world record winner, but it definitely made me stop for a minute… and we both know that's not an easy feat.”

He winked and, faster than you could say  _ yield,  _ was out of the lair.

 

~~

 

For a brief moment, Sportacus sat down.   
  
It happened while he was in his airship, after completing his afternoon exercises. Grabbing a book from his vast collection, he decided to give his body a break and work out his brain instead.   
  
He nestled himself comfortably into the driver's seat of his airship, flipped to his bookmarked page, and continued the story. One would be surprised at his tastes in literature — and that he even had the patience to read at all — but he enjoys enveloping himself in a good book as much as he enjoys strenuous activity.   
  
This story especially was just getting interesting. Always one to jump ahead of himself, Sportacus thought for a moment about how it could possibly end...    
  
...which was apparently a few seconds after he had to shut it, because his crystal started blinking.    
  
"Someone's in trouble," he noted, and tossed his book back onto the shelf so he could steer his airship into town.   
  
  
All thoughts of the story disappeared from his mind as Sportacus climbed down the ladder to Robbie's lair. He nearly toppled off once he saw the scene before him.   
  
Piles upon piles of junk littered the floor, and buried beneath the rubble was Robbie — or at least Sportacus assumed it was by the muffled cries that emitted from the middle of the mess.    
  
"Robbie! Where are you?" Sportacus called, his eyes scanning the sea of trash.   
  
An arm shot up and waved wildly, accompanied by louder, though still incoherent, shouting.

  
Sportacus remained perched on the ladder, using one hand to hold onto the bar and the other to pound his chest.   
Out of his backpack flew a jump rope; he tossed one end of it toward Robbie, yelling "catch!"   
  
Once he had it in his grasp, Robbie was yanked out of the pile and pulled right to Sportacus. Robbie hacked and wheezed as Sportacus helped him up onto the ladder; he wasn't in that pile long enough to lose oxygen, but was more than good at overreacting.   
  
"Are you okay? What happened?"    
  
Robbie clung to the bars like a baby koala to its mother. "I—Cleaning—Fast—Beat—World Record," he panted.    
  
Sportacus never thought there would be a world record in cleaning, or that Robbie would be desperate enough to try to beat it, but he wound up learning two new things.   
  
"I don't know if you noticed, but this isn't very clean," Sportacus told him. Robbie looked absolutely flustered.    
  
"I know that!" he groaned. "And it was clean! Just... not now."   
  
"Do you want—"   
  
"No, I do not want your help! Just go away!"   
  
Sportacus murmured a solemn "okay," but otherwise didn't move.    
  
"Why aren't you leaving?"   
  
"You're blocking the way up."   
  
Robbie looked down to see that Sportacus was indeed beneath him on the ladder, something he failed to realize while clinging to it with his eyes squeezed shut.    
  
"Right. Uh..." Robbie carefully swung himself around so that he faced the opposite side. Sportacus had to be wary of Robbie's fingers, but he was able to climb up.   
  
"Are you sure you don't—"   
  
"Yes," Robbie said through gritted teeth. "I'm sure I don't want your help."   
  
With a sigh, Sportacus made his way up the ladder and out of the lair, once again leaving Robbie alone with his sea of junk.    
  
"Why would I need his help?" Robbie huffed. "So he can clean everything spotless and take all the credit? So he can beat my world record? Never.   
"In fact, I don't even want this place clean! If it's too clean then it will look like his fancy little airship! All nice and—and clean!"   
  
His grip tightened on the bars. "Who would want that? Who would want a nice clean home?"    
  
He rested his forehead against a bar and sighed. "Who would want to be like him?"   
  
  
~~

 

There was a giant gaping hole, right in the middle of the floor within Robbie’s lair. It was so deep it almost seemed bottomless — that was until Sportacus peeked in and saw, very faintly, Robbie at the bottom.

 

He was lying down, seemingly accepting his fate of being stuck.

 

“Robbie, I'm coming down to help you,” Sportacus called through cupped hands.

 

Without waiting for a reply, Sportacus jumped down into the hole; His appearance caused Robbie to yelp, as did Sportacus’s arms around his waist.

 

Pulling a grappling hook from his backpack with his free hand, he gave it a swift whirl before flinging it up toward the hole’s mouth.

“Hold onto my back,” he instructed, and once Robbie was in place, began climbing up. “I'm sure how this happened is an interesting story.”

“I was walking…”

“Walking made this deep of a hole in your floor?”

“...on my hands.”

“I'm still not sure how—wait, on your  _ hands _ ?”

“For a world record!” Robbie clarified sharply.

“I didn't know you could do that! That's great!”

“No it’s not! Look at the damage it's done…” They reached the top and Robbie promptly let go of Sportacus. “From now on, the only thing I walk on are my feet — just the way it's supposed to be.”

Sportacus shook his head and sighed; As wonderful as it was for Robbie to be physically capable of not only doing a handstand but  _ walking _  on his hands as well, he knew that this experience would be enough to turn him off to it for — how did he say it? Ah, yes —  _ Forever _ .

“I can help you fix the floor,” Sportacus suggested, but was rejected as quickly as he anticipated.

“No, no, I'll do it myself… _ after  _ I use it to beat a world record for the—the deepest hole made by walking on your hands!”

“I don't think there's a record for that.”

“Then I'll  _ make  _ one,” Robbie said, beaming pridefully.

“Just be careful.”

Robbie’s face scrunched up weakly in disgust at Sportacus's concern, but instead of offending him, it made him laugh. He straightened his backpack and made his way up the ladder and out of the lair, knowing full well that Robbie would be in trouble again soon enough.

 

~~

 

The scream could be heard throughout the town, as well as the thump that followed and signaled trouble — that's when Sportacus's crystal blinked.    
  
It interrupted his snowman building time with the kids, but they were as understanding as always. After being waved off and wished luck, Sportacus traversed through the snow as quickly as he could.   
  
A giant slide — which wasn't there an hour ago — led him straight to the person in need of his help. Behind the billboard and lodged in the pipe entrance to the underground lair was none other than Robbie Rotten.   
  
"I'm stuck..." he murmured, his voice echoing within the walls of the pipe.    
  
He sounded genuinely distraught, and as Sportacus moved closer, he could hear him whimpering softly.    
  
The position Robbie was in was definitely humorous, but Sportacus didn't laugh.    
"I'm here to help, Robbie," he told him; A loud gasp emitted from the pipe.   
  
Carefully he grabbed Robbie's ankles and lifted him out. Sportacus finally got a good look at him after setting him down, and managed a slight chuckle; He was bundled up much more than necessary, and his skis were the wrong size.    
  
Robbie said something that was muffled by the many scarves covering his mouth.    
  
"What was that?" Sportacus asked.   
  
His shoulders tensed as he pulled his scarves down, revealing quivering lips.    
"I said... thanks."   
  
Things don't often catch Sportacus off-guard, but these words certainly did. He, however, knew better than to make a big deal out of it. Instead he smiled and told him it wasn't a problem.    
  
That should've been it — Robbie should've gone back into his lair and Sportacus should've returned to his friends — but Robbie brought that to a halt by surprising him once again.    
  
"I was trying to win the world record for ski jumping, but I can't ski..." he sighed. "Sportaloo...er, Sportacus. Do you think...you could teach me how to ski?"   
  
Sportacus noticed then how small Robbie looked; His eyes were glistening, and his tone was more than desperate. It made Sportacus's heart ache a bit.   
  
"Of course," he assured gently, and Robbie visibly relaxed. "First, you need skis that fit you. I'll be right back."   
  
After performing several somersaults, he was gone as quickly as he came. Robbie sat in the snow and waited, all the while wondering if the tutoring would be worth it.    
  
He wanted to land a world record more than anything, but only because he thought it would impress Sportacus — maybe even inspire some envy. If he wound up teaching him then it would all be for naught.   
  
Except it didn't really feel that way. Not at the moment, at least. Instead he felt anxious with the desire to broaden his horizons. It wasn't something he was used to, but he knew he wanted to hold onto the feeling.   
  
Robbie's reflecting was cut short by the arrival of Sportacus — jogging this time — with several things in his hands.    
  
"Okay, Robbie, I've got you new skis, goggles, and boots," he told him.    
  
Immediately Robbie felt overwhelmed; Who knew he needed all of that junk?   
  
With Sportacus's aid, Robbie suited up in the appropriate gear and fastened on his skis. He toppled right into Sportacus once he tried to stand.    
  
"Okay, next we're going to work on balance," he chuckled as he held Robbie up.    
  
It took a few tries, but eventually Robbie was able to perform the proper stance without tipping.    
  
"You did it! You've got it!"   
  
The excitement that filled Robbie's face was a perfect ray of warmth on that cold day. "I—I do!" he proclaimed.   
  
The newfound confidence he felt allowed him to be easily persuaded to go to the top of a hill. Not a large one by any means, but still plenty intimidating for a beginner.    
  
It wasn't until he looked down that his stomach knotted up.    
  
"I don't think I can do that," he sputtered. "No. Nope. No way. Can't do that. It's too—too high."   
  
Sportacus put a hand on his shoulder. "I think you can. You already made it up the mountain! That's harder than skiing down."   
  
"I don't know."   
  
"I do. On the count of three—"   
  
"But what if I mess up and go tumbling down the hill and break my legs?!"   
  
"That's not going to happen," Sportacus laughed. "I'm here, you'll be okay."   
  
Despite the reassurance, Robbie remained unmoved. Sportacus thought for a moment before looking up toward his airship and yelling "skis!"    
  
They fell right in front of him and he hopped into them before strapping them on.   
  
"We'll go together," he insisted, and gestured for one of Robbie's ski poles; Robbie took a breath before handing it to him.    
  
With a pole occupying one hand, the other was open, inviting Robbie's to join. Hesitantly, he grabbed it.    
  
"Are you ready?" Sportacus asked.    
  
"Is it too late to say no?"   
  
They pushed off on their poles and began traveling forward down the hill. Sportacus kept shouting things about weight distribution and proper stance— most of which Robbie didn't catch because he was too busy screaming.    
  
"It's okay, Robbie! You're fine!" Was the only thing Sportacus said that he had heard clearly, and once he realized it to be true, he was amazed.   
  
Gliding through the snow as the cool breeze ruffled his scarf, kissed his cheeks...it was an incredible sensation. Coupled with the glorious blue sky and the way the sunlight made the ice glisten, he felt more empowered than fearful.   
  
He was skiing, and it was awesome.    
  
They reached the bottom of the hill before he could completely drink everything in. It was almost disappointing.    
  
"You did a great job!" Sportacus said.    
  
"I did, didn't I...? I did!"   
  
Robbie was practically bouncing on his skis — Sportacus couldn't think of a time when he had ever looked so enthused, not even when he was being lazy. It was refreshing and filled him with pride.   
  
"Yes, you did—" Sportacus was cut off, and for the third time that day, caught off-guard by Robbie's words.   
  
"Can we go again?"

 

~~

 

Robbie fixated on his reflection in the mirror, his eyes searching for anything out of place. He had been primping for nearly three hours in an attempt to look his best for today's festivities — he was to be honored at an award ceremony, after all.    
  
After receiving the news, he pinched himself multiple times throughout the day just to make sure he wasn't dreaming...and it was true! He was actually going to have a celebration in his name, put on by the entire town. As if that wasn't exciting enough, he would also be earning a trophy and the title of "Most Improved Citizen."   
  
It had been a long time since he gave up trying to become the world's greatest villain, and an even longer time since he stopped trying to run Sportacus out of town.   
  
For a while he attempted to beat world records, but wound up failing outrageously at every one. The last record he attempted to beat was for ski jumping, and it was also the only one he ever got close to beating, thanks to Sportacus.   
  
He had helped Robbie out big time that day, supplying him with equipment and teaching him the proper skiing technique.   
Robbie still isn't completely certain why he allowed Sportacus to help him, but he chalked it up to an unwavering gut feeling.   
  
As much as he didn't want to admit it, Sportacus was a good teacher, and Robbie wound up skiing like a professional in no time.   
  
He was having so much fun that he nearly tired Sportacus out as he dragged him along to ski the snowy slopes around town. Skiing was amazing, he concluded, and he wanted everyone to know it. So he invited the kids, the Mayor, and even Miss Busybody.    
  
By the time everyone had had their fill of excitement, it was time for bed. Robbie slept better then than he ever had, which is saying something for a person who devoted a good portion of his life to sleeping.   
  
As fun as skiing was, he decided he wanted to try something else, and was just as surprised with himself as Sportacus was that he had asked for advice. Although it caught him off-guard, Sportacus quickly rebounded with dozens of ideas, and even more shocking was the fact that Robbie was open to every single one.    
  
That, the Mayor had informed him, was why he was receiving a celebration and award.    
  
Combing back his hair for the umpteenth time, Robbie settled on his appearance. He looked just a nice as the little shelf he cleared to make room for his new trophy.   
  
  
In the middle of town was the giant stage, decorated with ribbons and balloons, and adorned with a banner that read "Congratulations, Robbie!" written in a child's hand — undoubtedly Stephanie's.   
  
Seeing the display truly made the reality of the situation set in, causing Robbie to feel absolutely jittery. He was nervous, excited, horrified, and pleased, all at once.   
  
The Mayor was at the podium, reading over a long scroll that Robbie assumed was a beautiful, heartfelt speech explaining why he's the greatest and most deserving of an award. He was about to head over and sneak a peek, but someone tapped on his shoulder.    
  
It was Sportacus, looking as lively and heroic as ever. "Hi Robbie," he greeted. "I heard you're getting an award today?"   
  
The look on his face, Robbie couldn't decipher, which only made him more anxious.   
  
"Er, why yes, actually." Robbie straightened himself up, yanked down his vest, and feigned as much confidence as possible. "For most improved citizen, in fact!"   
  
Sportacus's eyes shone with a knowing glint. "Most improved citizen, huh? That's impressive."   
  
"Oh, yes, yes I know... Uh. Are you...impressed?"   
  
"I'm very impressed!" Sportacus said with a chuckle that made Robbie's strange gut feelings return.    
  
He could barely stutter out a reply before Sportacus patted him on the shoulder and wished him luck. It struck him then that the ceremony was starting soon, especially once other citizens started shuffling into the area and taking seats.   
  
"Mr. Rotten!" The Mayor chimed from atop the stage, successfully getting the man in question's heart lodged in his throat. "It's time for the award ceremony!"   
  
Robbie took a deep breath; He tried to bury all of his fears behind a smile and pretend he was in a disguise, but everyone knew who he was, and they were all staring.    
  
He hesitantly got onto the stage, and that's when he saw it: A shiny, golden trophy with his name engraved on it. He wouldn't have to steal it, wouldn't have to cheat to win it... It was already his, and just waiting for him to accept it.    
  
That fact alone helped settle his stomach a bit.    
  
"I, the mayor of Lazytown, hereby award Robbie Rotten as the most improved citizen!" He announced, which was met with claps from the audience.    
  
With the Mayor's signal, Sportacus stepped on stage and picked up the trophy. For a brief second, Robbie thought that this was a joke — that the Mayor would say, "just kidding! The real winner is Sportacus, because he's handsome and muscular and a superhero who wins everything!" but Sportacus handed the trophy to Robbie, and a wave of relief washed over him.   
  
The Mayor clapped along with everyone else. "Congratulations, Mr. Rotten!" he said.    
  
It was one of Robbie's biggest dreams come true. Not only did he receive a trophy and recognition from the entire town, but he received it from Sportacus, too.   
  
"Congrats, Robbie," he said, smiling. "You earned it."   
  
Hearing those words come out of Sportacus's mouth in real life and not just his fantasies — it took everything Robbie had not to cry on stage. He couldn't help tearing up, though.    
  
"Thank you, Sporta—er, everyone," he said, turning toward the crowd.    
  
The kids, seated in the front row, chanted Robbie's name as loudly as they could. It was overwhelming, but Robbie didn't flee. Instead he embraced it, and actually allowed a tear to slip down his cheek.    
  
It was then he realized that being a villain had nothing on being loved.

 


End file.
